The Journey

Brave men often find themselves on journeys throughout foreign lands.  They put themselves in unfamiliar situations to test their true identities, for it is only couture for every man to know what lies deep within his blood.  Dangerous, some travels may be; others may be filled with excitement and joy.  Through my many years of being a man, it seems that all travels have their tough times.  So on to the story. 

Day 1:
A crew of Motley men hit the open road in search for their true inner selves.  All departing from different locations, they come together at the same junction before it all begins.  They meet on a Monday afternoon.  They sky is gray as if the world was colored in black and white.  Just the way they prefer.  The first night is an interesting one to say the least.  They enter into a vintage pub, secretly disguised as a post office.  People are gathered for some type of event.  The men seem to be out of place, for faces did not look familiar or friendly.  Everyone seemed to be hiding something, almost like they were wearing a form of camouflage to protect their inner selves.  For these people were not true men.  Impostors of the human race, existing only to blemish society.  The men move through the crowd as if there were predetermined lanes for them to travel on.  To their slight surprise, they approach acquaintances.  Gladly to see the shining faces, the men do not feel as if they are being challenged.  Throughout that night, the men enjoy the dancing and fellowship with old friends.  The crew has had a solid first night, only to arise to greet a better day.

Day 2:
Day two starts out on the right foot, for the left was numb due to the cold temperatures.  They all arise to travel toward their next destination when an unexpected visitor arrives.  A creature by the name of Budrow comes to introduce himself to the men.  The men immediately grow fond of the creature and decide to let him in on their great journey.  Budrow is astonished, wanting to know more of the experienced group of scholarly fellows, but they must keep going.  Realizing that the trip needs to continue without any hesitation, they depart.  They are on their way to a place where the woods are green and the land lay flat on their back without any turning.  Arriving slightly after schedule, the men begin to listen to their stomachs.  They need food.  Off they go to a small place where Indians still roam and create an environment that is "your place to shine".  They are not sure where to go because they must find the lost dog to tell them where they are going.  In route, they find the lost dog, and he stands at point in the correct direction.  The dog did not lead them astray, the men were completely satisfied with what the dog had to offer.  After doing business with the dog, the men were useless.  They night eventually came to a close, ending with bed time stories from Luvell.  The crew must rest well,  for the next day would be their last.

Day 3:
Awake and ready to go, the men are anxiously waiting.  One may ask why they are waiting, it is due to the lack of preparedness by one member of the group.  The group is a tight one, they travel together like a pack of wolves, depending on one another for their own guidance.  The one arrives, and off they go.  Traveling away from the shadowy dusk toward the bright lights.  A place mentioned in music, a place where success is mandatory, and most importantly a place where Grizzlies roam.  The men were prepared to tackle the town head on.  And they did just that.  Arriving into the town, they are greeted warmly be the infamous Reeders.  Hospitality is a thing of beauty.  As if they were entering into their own homes, the crew felt comfortable.  Even though it was nice to catch a breath, they were forced to quickly prepare for the confident Grizz Nation.  The Grizz had won their past three battles, and were not looking to go down easy.  About to begin something of epic proportion, news travels to the men.  Bobcats that were traveling through attacked the powerful Grizzlies.  The men, without reasoning, acted quickly to help hold off the slashing attack by the Bobcats.  With the men's help, the Grizz protected their area once again.  The two groups seemed to join together in a understood bond with a backbone of respect.  The two left as alliances. 

The men were exposed in many different ways during their journey.  At times, the men struggled to retain their swagger, but they never completely let go.  Every one of these men came away a victor.  Separating in their different paths, the men leave each other for now.  For each man experienced different struggles, but they all came away with one strong similarity.  That similarity is summed up in one word, one word to describe them all, one word to give them all a sense of relation.  That word is brothership.  I am sure a journey is searching for these men, trying to displace them from their thrones, and the men will be anxiously waiting.

That Place

Many miles have been traveled with the thought of that special place in the front of my mind.  Through all the towns I have passed across, seeing sites that some only dream of, I realize that there is only one place that will forever be appreciated.  Recently, I have lived on the road, stopping at some good places, but also experiencing some not so good places.  First off, I left my home to go to my other home.  The luxury of having two places to call home is something that I take for granted, and some people do not have that opportunity.  To leave a place I have been associated with for so long and to up and leave without any thoughts is intriguing in a way.  When people leave their homes, they feel some type of emotion.  Not I.  I just left.  For it to be that easy says a lot about my next destination.  So I ride.  I take off like Mr. Fredrickson's own home from the top of Paradise Falls.  But when he left, he felt deep emotions, for Ellie was being left behind with his home.  The thing he loved most was floating away.  This feeling had to be tough to swallow.  Good thing I was not depending on balloons to carry me home.  After a long journey with the Iver's and their Horses, I arrive to that place.  I unload all my things, and soak it in.  I'm back.  Love and care flow like 2% covering Capt. C.  Bliss is in my back pocket.  Rest and recuperation are next on my calender.  Three days pass, I love it, but the fact there is nothing to do now is haunting me.  So I pack up, say my short good-byes and leave.  Knowing that I would soon return, I leave without emotion, without thought.  My travels start, not missing or really thinking about home.  As my trip starts to come to an end, home does not seem so bad.  The scary fact of that place is the lack of active achievements.  I think I can handle it though, for someone special is about to join me.  Not to say that this someone is active, but she is there.  This helps.  Home is a place of comfort.  I need to take full advantage of this before I depart once again for another long journey to my "other" home.  But for now, I will sit back and relax, for in my opinion, I earned it.

Turning Cold

Many things in this fabulous world we live in seem to change temperatures quite often.  Of course, we all know the weather and degrees of Fahrenheit will adjust to the seasons, but life itself seems to heat up and cool down.  Situations, opportunities, desires, thoughts, progression, and advantages are intangibles that become so cold, we tend to let go, refraining from frost bite.  Ted, just like everyone else, gets caught up with these certain issues, and he is confused.  He is confused on why he has such feelings, why it happens to him.  The truth, nothing but the truth, is that no one can run from these things.  Ted not only thinks he can run, but he believes he can hide.  A fool one might say, yet Ted seems to be the only wise person out there.  In a way, Ted is strong, in that he realizes he does not need certain things to enter into his life at this point, but he is not that strong.  Ted cannot stop the inevitable from crashing into him.  All must face this; Ted is not ready.  While saying all this, you might think Ted does not desire these things, that is where you are wrong.  Ted craves for these.  He sits and ponders about all the precious moments that he could gain from these.  Man, how great it would be.  He just wants something to have.  He feels as if he could possess this, he would be more happy.  He could be right, but I doubt it.  My doubt, along with his, keeps him from receiving this.  It is like a gift being offered to him by less fortunate.  He feels that it would be wrong to take it, as if it would only be hurting him and the giver.  This fears Ted, for he does not want to cause anyone pain.  He knows he can only cause pain at this point.  He could not stay committed to these things, he would stay attached just enough to keep them hanging on, but in the back of his head he would constantly be second guessing himself.  Ted has dealt with this before.  He was offered all of these intangibles, and he took them and ran.  As he started running, he lost some of these things.  Losing them only made him realize that he did not truly want them in the first place.  He mainly loved the idea of these things.  The idea could not compete with the real thing.  I mean how could it?  Everyone puts this image of what things should be and expectations grow and grow.  Ted is no different than everyone else.  He needs to wake up, for these things do not need him.  Now is not the time.  But he wants them, and they have been offered to him once again.  And what makes it worse is that they have increased their worth.  They have only became more beautiful and elegant, like the pure smile placed perfectly on an already perfect face.  This makes it hard.  But like I said, Ted is strong.  He knows that if he were to accept this assortment of pleasures, the smile would be lost, and he may not ever see it again.  So he keeps a safe distant.  Thinking all the time about how it could work, how he could make it warmer.  The good thing is, he always proves himself wrong.  So he waits, preparing to turn on the heater.  He first has to open the door, and he is yet to knock.

Pool Side

Conversations started and ended laying on the cold red brick, facing the tree limbs of South Street.  These conversations started primarily due to some form of gossip or the lack of.  Ted and Mary sat for hours discussing situations and problems that were unimportant and useless to all existance, but they needed a reason to meet.  For the talks would last late into the night, early into the morning.  The cold water rest beside them like a friend listening in on the conversation, but too afraid to interrupt.  The nights would start out with a simple call to let the other know that they were closing in on arrival.  The responder would agree with almost no emotion, for this was expected and regular.  He would pull up to his spot just passing the big oak, ending his ties with Joe and Paolo for the moment.  Hop out of the car, and Ted would head straight for the white wooden gate that separated him from the dim lit steps that drifted into the sun-heated water.  He then sat, waiting on her.  He sees her figure approaching the blinded glass.  She decides to join him, always dressing for the occasion.  Some might say they are the same, parted only by gender.  This is when they proved that theory.  Sitting down, talking quietly as if everyone was listening.  Problems were solved, and predicaments were created to be solved.  It seemed to always be generated from Ted.  He was the one with all the issues, and the funny thing is, he absolutely hated it.  Mary was too smart, she knew not to be in the situations that Ted was in.  Ted once tried to put her into one of his situations, and she quickly declined his offer.  Nights were comfortable when these two were together.  They fed off each other, their friendship was something of class.  They were not afraid to joke, but serious intentions were always present.  The fate of the world as they knew it was being discussed right there between their words.  The best thing about their conversations, eye contact was never needed.  They both felt one another's emotions, as if it was an extra layer of skin placed only for each to recognize.  Conversations were hard to end, but the time always came.  Rarely walking through doors, Ted would find his way back To Build a Home.  Leaving with both minds cleared, but not forgetting a single sentence, for these two were to last forever.

False Hope

The time is coming to declare the final outcome.  It is left up to one ending task.  Everything started out well, too well.  Starting out, this seemed to be oh so great, but the run is long, and Ted started out sprinting.  As an unexperienced runner, Ted does not realize the fact that a marathon is not won in the first 4 miles, for there are several more miles to go.  Ted struggled with his ability to keep up the pace.  He slowly started to decrease his speed.  He just could not maintain the high level of activity, but he still was running in the front of the pack.  A distraction finds Ted when he least expects it.  He comes to a fork in the road.  Ted must pick his poison.  Ted goes right.  At first this seems to be an okay decision, but down the road, another fork is placed in his path.  Frozen is Ted at the thought of another strongly unexpected decision.  He does the thing that is least expected of him, which is only right after the lack of expecticity from his previous encounters.  He turns and travels backwards.  To some, this might seem dumb, just plain dumb, but to Ted this was the decision that had to be made.  He travels back, but when he returns, it is too late.  The other path is now closed off.  Ted is devastated.  But wait, he sees a slight opening.  He tries to force his way through the pathway that is now blocked by a thick brush.  Just as he is started to pry his way through the thick brush, he notices that the brush is now a forest.  Ted is heart-broken to say the least.  The worst part about it is that a sense of hope was installed into his mind.  This hope filled Ted with comfort, a type of comfort that he extremely needed.  His ambitions were raised by this false sense of hope.  This hope is false, unfortunately.  He fights his way back from the bush to the road.  The road is empty.  The weather seems to change from a beautiful atmosphere to a cold, heartless scene.  Ted knows he did the best he could; this gives him honor and dignity.  The race was not won by Ted.  And not to say that this was his first loss, but he entered this race with high hopes.  This was a very disappointing race for Ted.  He fought the good fight, and he now must move on to the next, for this unhappy finish will not knock him down for good.  Ted is a fighter, filled with confidence.  He must fuel this confidence by doing well in his next marathons.  These races are upcoming quickly, and Ted must prepare for greatness.  All is well.  For greatness is an achievement that few obtain.  Ted will keep working, and hopefully greatness will discover Ted, for he will be restlessly waiting.

flight

the people down below all think they understand what's happening here. I can hear one say to another just in passing, "lord, another jumper. Could they not choose somewhere else." They all think they know so well , and if it were them they would never do such a thing as this. But I am not like the others who have perched on this ledge before me. I know something different. It first happened after I had been put in my new dorm. I did not like my new dorm. the people were very strange and in fact I had to wear a uniform while I was in it. All my teachers came to me and everyday a man brought me pills. my parents said it was the best the university had to offer so who was I to argue. I felt bad for all the saps that still had to walk to class every day in the freezing. The first time was nothing special, I am sure I am not the first one here. I was sleeping one night having a terrible nightmare that I was falling. I came closer and closer to the ground and when I woke up, I was an inch from the ground. I reached around behind me to see how my covers could have possible caught me. there was nothing. I was floating on air. You can imagine my elation at finding my new talent. I began to cultivate it in secret at night, its not looked  highly upon to say that you can fly. the first time trying to get it to happen again was more than difficult. I sat for hours just staring at my feet, trying every kind of thought I could. slowly, steadily, I rose off the ground. I started to learn to control it. soon I would fly across my room. I hardly ever walked anymore. I had to try it out in the real world, I had to show everyone. that is why I am here. 30 stories up on the tallest building in our little city. I can not lie I am nervous. I know my ability but even still I am worried. the wind is whipping around me much faster than it did on the street. I am cold, I did not have time to change out of my uniform, which is actually more like a hospital gown for what ever reason. I know I could not wait any longer. A van from my dorm just pulled up , and I knew all my teachers would be running up to get me probably with some of my medicine. this was the time. I stand spread my arms and breath in the cool air. I leap. I make a beautiful dive. the sound of the wind covers all, even the screams below. I know what is about to happen everyone else is fooled. I feel my self start to glide up the.....



: at 6:30 P.M. a man escaped from a local mental institute jumped off the regions building down town, falling to his death.

art, it is not an empty cold gallery where snobby people dressed in all black with some form of unconventional hat stare at slabs of color and make throaty noises of approval. It is not confined here. there are the purest forms of art, yes, but there are others, they surround us. The purest are literature, art, music, and dance. in these realms lie the artist. they strive on their art and forsake all others till death due them part, but it does not end here. all must pursue their own art. choose your art find it well, but pursue with it with all that is in you. Doctors, sew with the most artistic strokes, they cut and slice until the desired remains and the evil is gone. precision and timing these are true artist. Wash the floor scrub the toilet mind the vomit in the stairwell yes this is your art as well. your art is your love. do not forsake your art for any others. do not let a paycheck or ted sr. tell you that it is " just not a feasible lifestyle for you". your art is your life craft it, carve it, build it and sculpt it till you can step back put on the strangest hat you own and gargle at it.